The Choice
by digitalfletch
Summary: Set at the end of season 2, Buck is offered an unexpected choice during a brief stopover back on Earth
1. The Offer

The transport shuttle juttered wildly. Buck Rogers gripped the controls tightly and tried to level out the ship, buffeted by unseen forces, before it was ripped out of the sky.

The Searcher had returned to Earth for refueling and a much-needed break for the crew. Buck had planned on spending most of his leave helping Dr. Junius in the Archives, only to discover that the good doctor was away at a scientific conference. So, when he heard that Wilma and Doctor Huer were heading to New Carthage for a Defense Directorate meeting, he offered to fly them. He's never been to that particular 25th century Earth city, and had spent several very pleasant days exploring what had long ago been the hub of Northern Africa.

They were on their way home, only a few hundred kilometers from New Chicago, flying over the desolate desert that had once been the lush upper Mississippi Delta when a powerful distortion field had suddenly grabbed the ship and sent all the instruments haywire. And now the sand and rocks that covered the landscape as far as the eye could see were rising up at them at an alarming rate.

"We're going down!" he shouted to his companions. "Brace yourselves!"

Gritting his teeth, he managed at the last possible moment to reduce their speed and angle of descent, bringing up the nose of the craft just enough so that they hit the ground and skittered along the surface rather than smashing directly into the sand.

"Everyone ok?" Buck called as the shuttle skidded to a halt not far from a large rocky outcropping, throwing its occupants roughly against their seat restraints.

"We're fine, Buck," Wilma reported after a quick assessment. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm ok," he replied.

"Nice flying, Buck," she congratulated him, realizing just how difficult controlling their premature descent must have been.

"Yes, Buck," Dr. Huer echoed. He unstrapped himself from his own seat. "What on earth just happened?"

"I don't know, Doc," Buck replied, his attention on the instrument panel in front of him. "Some kind of distortion field sent all the instruments haywire. It looks like the ship is ok, but I can't get any power readings at all."

Wilma frowned. "A distortion field? You mean like an ion storm? Flight control didn't mention anything about a storm in the area."

"I know - and the skies are clear," he said. "We'd better check the exterior for damage and then com ahead to the Directorate. Unless we can get the power back on, we're gonna need a ride home."

Wilma nodded, and then leaned over and extracted a scanner from the equipment panel beside her seat. Buck used the manual override to open the shuttle door and lower the ramp, and they stepped outside.

Wilma took readings with the scanner while Buck checked over the shuttle. Aside from some nasty scrape marks along the nose and wings, there were no indications of surface damage. Which was unusual, because ion storms typically left very characteristic oxidation patterns on the hull.

"That's strange," Wilma said from her vantage point at the top of a nearby sand dune.

"What is?" Buck called. He and Dr. Huer strode up the dune to join her.

"It's not a natural phenomenon," she said in surprise. "The disruption pattern is much too regular."

Dr. Huer's eyebrows rose. "You mean it was a deliberate attempt at sabotage?"

"It would seem so. It appears to be coming from a single source, somewhere nearby."

"Can you get a fix on it?" Buck asked.

Wilma checked her readings. "It looks like it's coming from those rocks over there." She motioned across the shallow depression where the shuttle had landed toward a rocky outcropping that loomed above them.

Buck scanned the area, his eyes alert. "I see an opening of some kind, maybe a cave," he said, pointing toward a small gap between the rocks not more than fifty meters from where they stood.

Dr. Huer shaded his eyes against the setting sun, following Buck's finger. "Yes, Buck, I believe you're right."

"That could be the source of the disruption field." Wilma returned the scanner to her belt and drew her weapon. "I'm going to investigate."

"We should contact New Chicago and wait for back-up, surely?" Dr. Huer objected.

Wilma shook her head. "We need to find the source of that disruption field before any more ships are affected. Local shuttles fly through here regularly and they're all on autopilot. Right now the field is so strong that only a pilot with Buck's skills could prevent a bad crash."

Buck leaned down and drew a small gun from inside his boot. "For what it's worth, Doc, I agree with Wilma," he said, straightening. "We need to shut that thing down before someone gets killed."

"Very well," Dr. Huer conceded. "But be careful."

Buck and Wilma nodded in unison. Soundlessly, they made their way towards the rock formation.

Buck reached the mouth of the cave first and glanced back at Wilma, awaiting her cue.

She checked her weapon and then stepped forward, Buck taking up a position to cover her from the rear. It was a routine they had followed many times in the past. One after the other they slipped through the rocks into the mouth of a narrow cavern.

Almost immediately they were plunged into semi-darkness, and stood still for a moment to let their eyes adjust. As they did so they could begin to see the outlines of a short corridor leading deeper into the rock. An eerie greenish glow emanated what appeared to be an opening ahead and to their left.

Wilma cautiously approached and found herself looking into a small roundish chamber. The glow seemed to be coming from the walls themselves, while in the center of the room sat a raised dais in the shape of a waist-high pyramid. Atop the dais sat a golden globe, a little larger than the size of a fist.

Wilma stared at the scene in amazement, and jumped when Buck came up behind her.

"What is it?"

She shook her head. "It's clearly man-made," she noted, "but how? The Directorate would have known about any activity on this scale..." Her voice trailed off in amazement.

"Is this where the jamming signal is coming from?" Buck asked practically.

Wilma raised her scanner and pointed it toward the dais, taking care to keep a safe distance. "Yes. There doesn't seem to be any kind of weaponry, no energy readings or radiation source."

"Good. I'll tell the Doc the coast is clear."

Within a few moments the older man had joined them, and to Buck's amusement he was equally astonished as to how such a thing could have been created under the very noses of the Directorate.

"What is the origin of this technology?" Dr. Huer asked Wilma, leaning in to observe her readings. "It isn't Terran."

"No," she confirmed.

"Draconian?"

She shook her head. "It doesn't appear to be."

"The Draconians have hidden their technology signatures before," Buck reminded them.

"Yes," Dr. Huer agreed. "It's just possible that -"

Just then Wilma interrupted: "The jamming has stopped."

"Right," Buck said. "Let's find out what this thing is." He cautiously stepped towards the dais and slowly extended one hand towards the globe.

"Be careful, Buck," Dr. Huer warned.

Without warning the globe flared, momentarily bathing the chamber in a rich white light. The holographic image of a dark-haired young man flickered into view.

"Is that who I think it is?" Wilma's surprised voice echoed in the cavern.

The boyish figure appeared to be looking straight at Buck. "Do you know me, Captain Rogers?" it asked.

"You're the Guardian," Buck said at the same time Wilma exclaimed, "You're the shepherd boy."

The figure inclined his head. "You are both correct."

Dr. Huer looked from Wilma to Buck and back, mystified. "You mean to say that you two know this apparition?"

Buck nodded. "We encountered him on the Searcher, in the Omega Quadrant."

"Buck was asked to search for a successor of the Guardians, those beings with the 10 powers that hold the keys to the universe," Wilma supplied. "This young man turned out to be that successor."

Dr. Huer stared dumbfound at the youth. "I've heard tales of the Guardians," he breathed. "I had always thought they were the stuff of legend."

Buck shook his head. "No, they're real enough, all right." He turned back to address the Guardian. "You're an awful long way from home. What brings you all the way out here to Earth?"

"This was once a beautiful world, was it not, Captain?" the Guardian asked, his tenor voice melodious.

Buck raised his eyebrows, unsure where the question was leading. "Uh, yeah, it was. Back in my day, there were green forests everywhere, oceans, spectacular mountain ranges - " he broke off. "Back before the holocaust," he finished with a touch of sadness. He felt Wilma touch his arm gently and was grateful for the gesture of sympathy.

"You miss that world," the Guardian noted, his tone making it a statement rather than a question.

Buck answered anyway. "Yeah, I do," he confessed. The flight to New Carthage had been a stark reminder of just how dramatically the Earth had changed, of how much had been lost. It would never be the same again, not in this century, or perhaps any other.

The Guardian bowed his head, looking for a moment almost beatific. He stepped toward Buck. "I cannot restore your world to you, Captain Rogers," he said softly, "but I can restore you to your world."

Buck heard Wilma's sharp intake of breath beside him. He blinked in confusion, not sure what she had grasped that he was missing. "What do you mean, you can restore me to my world?"

The Guardian spoke: "Now that I have fully grown into my powers, I have the ability in extraordinary circumstances to turn back time. You served the Guardians, Capt. Rogers, capably and without thought of reward. Thus I come to offer you that which you most desire - the chance to return to the 20th century and live out the years remaining to you in your own time."

Buck was stunned. "You can do that?" he asked disbelievingly.

The Guardian nodded. "The keys to the Fourth Dimension are mine."

"I don't...I don't know what to say."

"The choice is yours: remain here in the 25th century, or return to your own time."

"How long would I have?" No one alive today knew exactly when the holocaust had hit, how long after he had left on his mission. Would he have months, or years?

"It is impossible to say precisely," came the reply. "Between ten and twelve years."

He would have years. Buck stood in silence for an endless moment, his mind leaping back into the past. His family, his friends, everything and everyone he knew - he could go back. How many times he'd dreamed about it, hoped for it...but he'd never ever imagined it could actually happen. And yet, he'd also made a life here in New Chicago, and on the Searcher...

"Uh, I don't know," he said finally, feeling desperately torn. He ran a hand through his hair. "I can't just -" He glanced quickly at Wilma, then at Dr. Huer, and then turned back to the Guardian. "Look, I appreciate this, but it's not an easy decision to make. Can I have some time to think about it?"

The youth nodded and pointed to the golden globe. "This orb will be your key. Grasp it, and it will return you to your own time. But if you do not use it before the sun strikes the mouth of the cavern, then you will remain here in this century."

Buck inclined his head in acknowledgment. "Thank you."

The Guardian smiled, looking again like the young man Buck and Wilma had met those months ago. "The gratitude is ours, Captain," he said. "Farewell."

They watched as he faded from existence. Dr. Huer and Wilma turned to Buck, whose eyes were fixed on the orb.

"Um, could I have some time alone?" he asked as he felt their eyes settle on him.

"Of course, Buck," Dr. Huer said. "Colonel Deering, would you excuse us, please?"

Wilma hesitated. She wanted more than anything to stay, to try to reason with Buck and stop him from leaving. To try and convince him how much the Directorate and the Earth and this century needed him. How much, unspoken but heartfelt, she needed him. She glanced at Dr. Huer, and although she was certainly inexpert in reading other people's feelings, she thought she saw the same thought, the same emotions, in his wise eyes. If there was anyone whom Buck would listen to who could make the case for him to stay, she realized, it would be her long time friend and comrade.

She nodded and, biting her lip, left the cavern. 


	2. The Wait

Wilma half-leaned, half-sat against the edge of the shuttle's port side wing from where she had the best vantage of the entrance to the cavern. It would be far more comfortable to wait inside the shuttle, but even though the scanners said there were no life forms within 100 kilometers, she would consider herself remiss if she didn't keep watch on Buck's position and her own for anything unexpected.

The moon was high over her left shoulder, casting the surrounding sand and rock in a soft, pale blue glow. A warm breeze was stirring, and if she looked up into the night sky, the stars were close enough to touch.

This would be the first time in her life Wilma spent an entire night outside the dome. Under other, less stressful circumstances, she decided, it would be quite pleasant. She wondered if this was what it was like in Buck's time, when people spent much of their lives outside. He'd told her that back then the land, while not pristine, was still quite beautiful and there was no menace from mutoids or other predatory creatures of the night. The human population wasn't trapped within hermetically sealed environments, like they were now, wholly dependent on computers and at the mercy of pirates and greedy allies.

Buck had all his family back in the 20th century, his friends, the woman he...cared for, a world as yet untouched by the holocaust. The thought saddened her. What did her world have to offer that could possibly compete with that?

She was pulled from her morose thoughts by Dr. Huer's return. She could see him quite clearly in the moonlight as he approached, his steps tired and slow. He settled down beside her with a grunt and shook his head at her questioning glance. So, he hadn't been successful in convincing Buck to stay.

She looked closely at the man beside her. His face, in profile to her, was drawn and pinched. For the first time in all the years she had known him, he looked old. She realized then how difficult this was for him. He and Buck had formed a deep bond over the past two years, with the dramatic differences in their ages and backgrounds more than compensated for by their common humanitarian impulses, their strict adherence to principles, and their love for Earth. Wilma suspected that Dr. Huer saw in Buck the son he'd never had - losing him would be in many ways be as terrible for her old friend as it would be for herself.

She reached out and laid one hand on his arm in sympathy - a gesture she would never have even considered making before Buck came into their lives. But among the many things he had taught her was the value of compassion, and that outwardly displaying such an emotion wasn't a sign of weakness but rather one of understanding, solidarity and concern.

Dr. Huer looked up at her, startled, and then covered her hand with his, patting it awkwardly in gratitude.

Wilma turned quickly back to the shuttle, craving a distraction to keep her mind from dwelling on what might be about to happen in the cavern behind her. She opened the ramp and stepped inside. "I'm going to check the ship again," she said over her shoulder to the Doctor.

She slipped into the pilot's chair and began the pre-flight systems check. One by one she went down the list, finding, as she suspected, that each and every flight system was now in perfect working order. Once Buck had reached the cavern there was no more reason to keep the jamming device in operation.

She heard Dr. Huer enter the shuttle behind her. "All systems are back online," she informed him. "The Guardian must have used his powers to generate a local distortion field to bring us here, without causing the ship any structural damage. Our own power is back on, and all readings are normal."

Dr. Huer nodded slowly, wearily. "Please inform the Directorate of our status, and that we will be remaining here until morning."

Wilma nodded in response, relieved that she didn't have to request permission to stay. "Yes, Doctor."

-----

The darkness deepened. They were hours into the night now. Dr. Huer sat quietly on one wing of the shuttle, lost in thought. Wilma paced back and forth in front of the craft, brooding.

Though the air was warm, she shivered and rubbed her arms. She was cold to the core, deep in the pit of her stomach. A knot had formed in her throat that was making it difficult to swallow. Reluctantly, she forced herself to recognize what her body was unsubtly trying to communicate to her.

She was afraid. For one of the few times in her life, she could taste the metallic tang of fear in her mouth. She had been too young when her parents died in the shuttle crash on Aldeberon V to have more than the vaguest memories of them, so their deaths had not affected her deeply. But the lasting impact their loss had on her was that, from as early as she could remember, she had always made sure that everything in her life was under her control.

That was why she joined the Directorate at a ridiculously early age, to assume the order and predictable structure of a military life. It was why she decommissioned the Fighting 69th, so that she wouldn't risk losing Noah and the only people - aside from Dr. Huer - who had ever been like family to her. And it had worked. For thirty years she'd been in complete control of her world - not only of her external environment, but also of her thoughts, feelings and emotions.

And then Buck came along, and swept all concept of control right out the window.  
When she first encountered him she had thought him a caveman, a Neanderthal - crass, boorish, beastly and crude. She'd assumed he was a Draconian spy, at worst, a primitive anachronism at best. And he'd proven her so, so utterly wrong. Then and ever since he'd constantly surprised her, caught her off guard, and expanded her horizons.

She remembered the first time that he showed her a judo move, amazing her with his physical prowess. And the time he tried to teach her how to play the 20th century Earth game 'ping-pool.' The way he had befriended an ambuquad, and taught him an ancient American vernacular that befuddled everyone they met. The way he could always charm her out of a dark mood with a joke and a smile.

And these recollections inexorably led to others. Buck's unexpected jealousy of Aram Duvoe, and how he'd tried to protect her from the effects of his mysterious secret. The way he'd cared for her after she'd been temporarily blinded aboard the Searcher. The kiss they'd shared after he was acquitted of being a traitor.

Every sweet memory crushed her chest like a vise. She didn't know what she'd do if she lost him now. It would be hard, so very hard, to go on without him. She loved him. That was the plain, unadorned fact of the matter. The stark, simple truth - newly recognized and made all the more painful by the immanent possibility of loss.

There was still a chance. He hadn't used the orb yet, she somehow knew. There was still time to go to him now and tell him how she felt. Otherwise it would be too late, and he would never know. She could kiss him as passionately as she knew how, and entreat him to stay. If she could make him realize how much she cared about him, it might sway his intention to leave.

For a moment Wilma was sorely tempted by the idea. But it was one thing to recognize these powerful emotions, to accept them in all their joy and pain, and wholly another to try and hold Buck hostage to those feelings.

No, she couldn't do it. It wouldn't be fair to him. But, there was something she could do. Something she needed to do. She turned resolutely and stepped up into the shuttle, heading for the kit containing the emergency supplies. 


	3. The Dilemma

Wilma slipped through the crack in the rocks and made her way to the mouth of the chamber. As her eyes adjusted to the greenish light she saw that Buck still stood where she had left him those many hours ago - in the center of the cavern, staring silently at the golden orb. She fingered the food cubes in her hand and took a deep breath.

"Buck?" she called softly, not wanting to startle him.

There was no response.

"Buck," she repeated.

He turned, snapping out of his reverie. "What? Oh, hi Wilma."

"Hi," she replied, feeling unaccountably shy. The sensation confused her - she was normally quite self-possessed. She masked her sudden nervousness by holding out her hand to him.

"I brought you some food cubes. I - I thought you might be hungry," she said by way of explanation, although they both knew it was merely an excuse.

Buck took the proffered food cubes without enthusiasm. "Not exactly steak and eggs, are they," he said, staring down at the small brownish squares that were edible enough but didn't taste like anything at all.

"What?" Wilma asked, unexpectedly confused by his words.

"Never mind." His eyes dropped and all of a sudden he looked lonely and vulnerable, like a lost child.

"Buck - are you all right?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "I just don't know what to do, Wilma," he confessed. "I really don't."

Wilma stared into his eyes, trying to brand his visage onto her soul. Buck was so precious to her, she couldn't imagine what life would be like without him.

He solemnly returned her gaze - uncharacteristically quiet - and after a moment she took a deep breath, reminding herself why she was here. This might be the last time she saw...the last chance she might ever have to tell him how much knowing him meant to her.

"Buck," she began quietly, "I'm glad you have this opportunity to go - to go back to your family...if that's what you want. You deserve it."

"Wilma - "

"No, Buck, I mean it," she said quickly. "You deserve to be happy. I want you to be."

Buck was deeply touched by the passionate sincerity in her voice. "Thanks, Wilma. You don't know how much that means to me."

"I don't know what I would have done without you these past two years," he said softly, gazing into her eyes with great affection. "More than anyone else you helped me get used to living in this century. You've been my best friend - put up with all my jokes - you've trusted me through everything, even when everyone else thought I was insane. Remember the Zantians?" he asked, quirking his eyebrow.

She nodded. How could she forget?

He went on, "You almost shot me out of the sky when you realized I was going to kidnap the Ruathan ambassador - but instead you backed me up, without even knowing what I was doing, even when it looked like it might lead Earth into a war."

"I knew you wouldn't let that happen," she told him softly.

"See?" he smiled. "That's what I mean."

As always, his easy grin warmed her heart. She took a step towards him, so close that she could lean forward and...it took a massive effort of will to prevent herself from reaching out and embracing this man who had come to mean the world to her.

She said instead, "You've done so much for us, too, Buck. Even though you're 500 years from your own century, you've saved the Earth I don't know how many times..."

"Well, it is my planet, too," he said with an embarrassed chuckle.

"And more than that," she continued, looking deeply into his eyes, "you inspire people. I've seen it happen over and over again. You've helped overthrow warlords and tyrants, and bring down corrupt governments. And people like Jen Burton, and Stella Breed - you changed their lives. You give people the courage to do the right thing."

"You've inspired me, too," she revealed with a tender smile. "You've shown me that I don't need to suppress my emotions - and how much stronger, more powerful I can be when I recognize them, and use them as my guide. You've changed my life, too."

"You've meant so much to me, Buck, as a colleague - as...as a friend." Despite her best efforts her voice shook suddenly and she had to stop for a moment. She threaded her fingers together in an effort compose herself. "You've taught me so much, made my life so much richer than it was. And you've made me a better person. I can't thank you enough for that."

Buck reached up and gently brushed one hand over her hair. "Right back at ya," he said with a ghost of a grin. "You're the most amazing woman I've ever known."

Wilma's heart swelled painfully. Her eyes filled with tears that she resolutely refused to let fall. Then don't leave me, Buck Rogers, she thought miserably, aching inside. For a moment she wanted desperately to forget her resolve and reveal everything she felt, the fierce love for him that she held in her heart.

But it would be emotional blackmail of the worst kind. It would be unforgivable to do that to him, and it would break the bond of trust between them. He must make his own choice, without pressure, no matter what the consequences might be for herself. His own choice - without volition her eyes slipped to the orb sitting just off to her right.

Buck followed the line of her gaze. "You know, up until tonight I'd have killed for a opportunity to return to my old life. But now that I have the chance -" He let out a harsh breath. "I never thought it would be so hard to let go."

Immediately Wilma's heart went out to him - she hated to see him so torn. All concerns for herself left her mind as she tried to find the words to comfort him. She laid a hand on his bicep, drawing his attention back to her.

"Don't feel guilty about us, Buck," she whispered with infinite tenderness. "We'll be all right. Do what will make you happy. Please."

He touched her cheek with the back of one hand and rubbed his fingers gently over her smooth skin. She leaned into his touch, savoring the soft caress. Then he dropped his arm and swept up her hands in his, gripping strongly, and with a tremulous smile she returned the clasp, holding his fingers so tightly it hurt.

For a long moment they stood without moving, staring into one another, lost in each other's eyes. Without moving her gaze from his Wilma loosed one hand and traced his cheekbone and the strong line of his jaw with fingers that trembled perceptibly.

Summoning all of her willpower, she forced herself to release Buck's hands and take a step back. She swallowed hard as the tears threatened to spill, then turned and fled for the exit without looking back.

-----

Buck paced across the cavern, rubbing his elbow aimlessly with his other hand. What was he waiting for? This was what he wanted, what he'd desired for the past two years. So many nights during his first months in the 25th century he'd awoken from a dream with his home - his world, his old life - at the edge of his awareness, just out of reach. Missing his family, his mother and father, his friends and Air Force mates...Jennifer.

Even after all this time it was still painful to think about her. The woman he'd loved. The woman he'd left behind. He'd been overjoyed when he thought he had found Jennifer again in the 25th century, only to discover that he'd been cruelly tricked by a look-alike in the form of Leila Markeson. And then Leila had died in his arms, and it was as though he had lost Jennifer twice. He wouldn't make that same mistake again.

He reached forward to take the orb, an image of Jennifer forming in his mind's eye.

-----

Outside the cavern, Wilma shivered suddenly in the darkness. 


	4. The Decision

Only, it wasn't Jennifer. Buck's hand lowered. It was Wilma. An image of Wilma, gently smiling. Wilma, laughing at him playfully. Studying him. Challenging him. Wilma, her grey eyes soft and wide. Image after image, playing themselves across his mind.

He stood as if in a trance, reliving memory after memory of the times they had spent together. All the adventures they'd had, all the flights and missions and training runs they'd shared, all the times he'd dropped by her cabin on the Searcher and they'd simply talked or laughed together - the way he naturally seemed to gravitate to her and she to him.

For the first time, Buck realized just how deeply woven into the fabric of his life Wilma had become. And yet, he had never analyzed the exact nature of their relationship. They were more than comrades, less than lovers. Friends, certainly, but more than that. Not quite a couple, yet in many ways partners. The rapport they shared was like nothing else he'd experienced in his life.

She was desperately afraid of losing him - despite her heroic effort to hide it, he'd seen it in her eyes. Yet she had asked nothing for herself, only that he do what would make him happy. Her unselfish concern for him took his breath away.

But that was all in the past...he tried to project his mind ahead. How did he envision his life in ten or twenty years? Who did he want to share it with?

All at once it dawned on him: the choice he'd been given wasn't about going back, but about going forward. And he knew then and there his decision had already been made.

------

Wilma stared out into the desert, her heart in her throat. It had been happening for some time now, an almost imperceptible brightening of the bleak landscape until she could clearly pick out every rock and sand dune. Sunrise was almost here. There were surely no more than a few minutes left before...

Beside her, Dr. Huer ground the heel of his boot into the sand with as much intensity as he would bring to a negotiation with their Draconian foes. She watched him sadly for a moment, and then looked up. The sun was striking the mouth of the cavern.

Wilma put a hand to her mouth. She must have made an involuntary cry, because Dr. Huer suddenly raised his head, following her gaze. She saw the hopeful look on his face crumble as he realized there was no movement, nothing at all.

For an eternity they sat in stunned silence, trying to absorb the reality. He was gone. Buck was gone. A wave of anguish swept over Wilma and she bit her lip until she tasted blood to keep from crying out with pain.

At last Dr. Huer stood. "I suppose - we should...be getting back..." he murmured in a voice as worn and cracked as ancient paper.

Wilma nodded, not trusting herself to speak. There would be time for sorrow, but not just now. Not until Dr. Huer was safely back in New Chicago. He was still Earth's leader, her commander, and she had her duty to fulfill. She would have the rest of her life to grieve for what she had lost.

She stood stiffly and, with a leaden heart, moved to lead him towards the shuttle door. Then over her shoulder, out of the corner of her eye, she saw - something, there, back towards the cavern - Wilma quickly reversed direction, dodging around her companion to get a better look.

A figure was emerging from the entrance, striding slowly towards them.

Suddenly Wilma was running, sprinting as fast as she could. She raced down the dune and without breaking stride threw herself into Buck's arms.

Buck gathered her to him gratefully, inhaling her sweet scent, feeling her slim body trembling against him like a leaf in the wind.

Over her shoulder he saw Dr. Huer approaching and read the unspoken question in his eyes. He let go of Wilma with one arm, keeping the other wrapped tightly and possessively around her waist.

"I finally realized that I had a choice between the past and the future," he explained. He gazed directly at Wilma. Her eyes were glowing - she was radiant with beauty in the morning light. "I chose the future." 


End file.
